


Ugly

by thegrendel



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Geek Love, Loss of Virginity, Nerdiness, Older Woman/Younger Man, Virginity, orgone energy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 08:10:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrendel/pseuds/thegrendel
Summary: She was in her late 30s and still a virgin. She thought she was too ugly to get a man. Fortunately, an aunt had some good advice for her.





	Ugly

"Damn, Tilda, you're a mess. You really _must_ do something with  
your hair. Not to mention joining Weight Watchers and dropping about a  
hundred pounds. And don't forget to see a dermatologist. It's a cinch  
you'll never get a boyfriend with a butt fatter than the Goodyear Blimp  
and a face looking like an anchovy pizza."

"Thanks, Sandi, you sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.  
Where would I be without you?"

"Think nothing of it. After all, what are friends for?"

 

Matilda was thoroughly disgusted. With the world. With fate. With herself.

She had a pockmarked face and a big fat ass. She was ungainly and lacking  
in social skills. Never mind that she was warm, loving, and, somewhere  
underneath it all, recklessly passionate. At 38 she was still a virgin.

 

Her last attempt at a relationship, some years back, had been a disaster.  
Stanley ("call me Studley") had seemed to like her all right, but was  
ashamed to be seen with her in public. "My buddies'd have a shit fit if  
they saw me hanging around with a fat chick," he admitted.

"My girlfriends would have shit fit too, if they saw me hanging around  
with a musclebound moron like you," she laughed, "so I guess we have  
something in common after all."

It ended on a lonely country road, when he tried to "persuade" her to  
give him head. "It's my way or the highway, girlie." Two hours it took  
her to walk back to civilization.

 

Tilda was older and wiser now, but that didn't diminish her loneliness,  
her desperate craving for simple human touch. She needed someone who would  
caress her hair, look her in the eye and tell her she was special. Someone  
who would cherish her inner beauty. Someone who would care.

"A good man is hard to find . . . " Wasn't there a pop tune like that  
once upon a time? For a woman in her late thirties damn near any kind  
of man is hard to find. All the "good" ones have long since married or  
settled into longterm relationships. All that are left are . . . the  
leftovers. The misfits and rejects and losers. She certainly belonged  
in one or more of those categories.

Maybe . . . just maybe it was time for a change in strategy. If suitable  
men in her age group were scarce, then what about . . . younger men. Men  
in their late twenties. Men in their early twenties. Men just barely of  
legal age. Hell, even some of those eighteen-year-old kids fresh out of  
high school were starting to look mighty good.

So, what did she have to offer to a younger man? Experience? She really  
didn't have a whole lot of that. Well, maturity . . . acceptance . . .  
warmth. And what was it a young guy wanted after all? A combination  
mother and lover. She'd give it her best shot.

First priority was the minor matter of acquiring expertise in the art and  
science of lovemaking. Tilda began by reading the classics on the subject:  
the _Kama Sutra_ , Richard Burton's translation of the _Perfumed_  
Garden, and Alex Comfort's _The Joy of Sex_. These dealt  
mostly with different positions and variations of intercourse. There was  
a marked scarcity of detail in the turgid prose, and a total absence of  
the esoteric gems of wisdom she had expected. "There's not a great deal  
that books can teach me," she concluded.

Where to turn to, then? Well gosh, why not Aunt Karen? Even at the ancient  
age of sixty, she was still the black sheep of the family. During Tilda's  
childhood she'd often heard her parents whispering about Karen's alleged  
escapades with various boyfriends and paramours. Quite a racy reputation  
she had.

 

"Aunt Karen, I seem to have a teensy little problem. I'm trying to  
jump-start my love life, but I'm totally ignorant of the mechanics of  
it. Yes, of course there are gazillions of books on the subject, but  
what can I learn from just reading?"

"When it comes to the erotic arts, sad to say, books are pretty much a  
waste of time. Ah, Matilda, there is so much I could teach you, so much  
pain I'd like to spare you. Unfortunately, it's all too true that pain  
is the great teacher. Probably the best I can do is give you the the  
benefit of my own limited experience, then send you on your way. And,  
oh yes, please call me Kari, won't you? I simply _despise_ 'Karen.'"

"Any help you could give me, Auntie, I'd appreciate. I haven't had much  
luck with men my own age or older, so I've been thinking about younger  
men, _much_ younger men. Does that knock you out of your socks?"

"It would take a great deal more than that to shock me, my child. I've  
seen and done things that would chill you to the very marrow. It  
just happens that I was a member of the notorious Dr. Abelian's inner  
circle. You might have heard of him -- the man who claimed that 'orgone'  
energy, the power released by sex, was the key to eternal youth.

"Oddly enough, Matilda, Abelian discovered that virginal males are the  
richest respositories of that particular fundamental force of nature.  
A sexual connection with an inexperienced young man, one whose emotions  
are freshest and rawest and unmuted, liberates a veritable torrent of  
orgone energy at the culmination of the act of love. The youthening and  
age-retardant effects of the orgone radiation affect everyone in the  
immediate vicinity."

"And that's why so many older women are taking young lovers nowadays,  
Aunt Kari? For the rejuvenating effect? I assume this also works for  
older men with young girlfriends."

"As it happens, my dear girl, having sex with a virgin female actually  
_reverses_ the orgone energy flow. This causes the male partner to age  
more rapidly, to his utter dismay, no doubt. But yes, women in their  
thirties and upward can slow the aging process by 'breaking in' virgin  
males. Do you need proof? Look at me. Look closely."

Aunt Kari unbuttoned her blouse, then pulled off her bra. She had smooth,  
unlined skin and her firm breasts showed not the slightest trace of  
wrinkles or sag.

"You still doubt me, child?"

As Tilda stood frozen, staring in shock with her mouth gaping open,  
Kari vigorously scrubbed off layers of pancake makeup from her face.

"My gosh, Auntie, you could pass for my younger sister! I can't flippin'  
believe it."

"It's all too true, Matilda. Absorbing regular doses of orgone energy  
keeps my face and body at a physiological age of twenty-five."

"Auntie, you mean you -- you mean the wild gossip about you is . . .  
true?"

"Don't rush to judgment, Matilda. Don't you realize that your own parents  
are of my own generation? I just happen to know a few of the crazy things  
they themselves did as they were coming of age. They didn't call us the  
'Free Love and LSD Generation' for nothing.

"To answer your question -- I have indeed taken 18-year-old boys as  
lovers, and not just for the rejuvenating effects. Quite frankly, I  
enjoy their youthful zest for life and their untainted enthusiasm for  
sex . . . their uninhibited horniness, to be disgustingly crude about  
it. 'Boy toys' indeed."

"Why, Auntie, no!" Tilda snorted. "And just where do you go on your  
cradle-robbing raids? Bars? Dance clubs? You maybe make like the Phantom  
of the Opera and skulk around pool halls?"

"Do you have any plans for tonight, Matilda? If not, I invite you to  
accompany me on a cradle-robbing raid, as you so aptly put it."

 

Tilda and her Aunt Kari were sitting in the back row, listening attentively  
to a sloppily-dressed young fellow expounding with evangelical fervor on  
the glories of his favorite computer operating system.

"What a bunch of weirdos," Tilda whispered across to Kari. "No wonder  
they're virgins. No self-respecting woman would look twice at one of  
these geeks."

"Forget the clothes and hairstyles. Observe their firmly-muscled young  
bodies. Just look at those tightly-packed buns. It makes my ancient  
juices flow thinking about that sweet meat!"

Tilda was starting to redden with embarrassment as the speaker continued  
his sermon.

" . . . holding back the satanic avalanche of sludge from Redmond,  
Washington. Only Linux can save the world from . . . "

These guys did take their computing seriously. It was like a religion to  
them. But Tilda was losing interest fast. In fact, she was having trouble  
keeping her eyes open . . .

" . . . And this is Lonnie," her aunt was saying. Tilda jolted awake. "He  
noted your intense interest in his 'satanic sludge' speech, and thinks  
he'd like to get better acquainted."

"Hell-hello, Lonnie. I was entranced by what you were saying. Really.  
And yes, I do believe you can save the world. Youthful enthusiasm,  
not to mention technical knowhow, can move mountains."

"Uh, yes, uh, I'm pleased to, uh, meet you, ma'am. Your, uh, sister  
here mentioned that you'd, uh, like a demo of the programs some of our  
members have written. I'd be, uh, happy to, uh . . . "

"Lonnie," Kari broke in, "would you be so kind as to accompany us home  
and show us? You needn't worry about me jumping your bones, ha, ha.  
Matilda here will be more than happy to protect your honor."

 

An hour later, Kari was carefully unbuttoning Lonnie's shirt. "That's a  
dangerous-looking pocket protector, young fellow. You're trying to make  
a fashion statement with it, I presume."

His answer came out as a strangled gasp, as her hand, which had been  
gently caressing his crotch, suddenly clenched shut. "That's right,  
my sweet, no need to bother with words. Your function to stay upright  
and do what mamma says." She helped him out of his pants.

"All right, Matilda. He's ready. You can come in now."

Tilda knocked softly and gingerly opened the door to the bedroom. She  
had on a diaphanous nightgown with nothing underneath.

"Look, Matilda," Kari said. She was holding a small transparent cylinder  
directly in front of the bulge in Lonnie's underwear. The device was  
pulsating with a faint blue-green glow.

"This is a virgin detector. Yes, really. Inside this container is a  
solution of finely ground-up electrically-charged particles of manganese  
dioxide crystals suspended in glycerine. It activates and glows in the  
near proximity of a male virgin's erection. That certainly seems to be  
the case here, as you've no doubt noticed.

"Now, Lonnie, my good fellow, very shortly we'll be relieving you of  
the burden of your virginity. We require your consent, of course. If you  
have any reservations about this procedure, I'd be glad to help you get  
back into your clothes and drive you home."

In answer, Lonnie buried his head between Kari's breasts. He was sobbing  
softly, but his hands were stealthily creeping around toward her buttocks.

"Naughty, naughty. We'll get to that later. Meanwhile, your virginity  
belongs to Matilda. She's a virgin, too, you see, and something  
very interesting happens in a dual-virgin hookup . . . under special  
circumstances, of course.

"Now lie down on the bed, Matilda, on your left side, and pull your knees  
partway toward your chest. You lie down behind her, Lonnie. That's a good  
fellow. Clasp her around the thighs. You'll gently, very gently, enter  
her from behind. She has already applied lubrication, so after you break  
through her hymen, the going will be smooth and easy. Ready?"

The "virgin detector" emitted a bright blue flash at the very instant  
that Matilda cried out as Lonnie entered her. Then it went dark, as it  
was no longer in the presence of a virgin. Kari bathed in the afterglow  
of the actinic orgone pulse that had saturated and envigorated every  
cell of her tired, aging flesh.

Some minutes later, the two ex-virgins lay interlocked in a lovers'  
embrace. Kari found the scene touching, but her own resurgent physical  
desires could no longer be denied. "Matilda, you can get dressed now.  
Your presence here is no longer required. Lonnie and I have some  
unfinished business to attend to."

On her way out, Tilda heard Aunt Kari ask Lonnie whether he had ever  
fantasized about fucking a woman in the ass. This certainly had been an  
eventful day.

 

"Damn, Tilda, you're looking good. Your face has cleared up and you've  
done something nice with your hair. You could pass for ten years younger.  
If only it weren't for that huge ass of yours . . . "

"Yes, Sandi, it's marvelous what a little loving can do for the complexion.  
And my hair, oh yes, my hair. I sit and sort through memories for  
hours, running the brush through my hair, thinking, sighing, remembering  
_his_ hand fondling that huge ass of mine, that huge ass that he  
can't get enough of."

"Listen, girlfriend. I sit alone in that big, empty house at night, and  
here you are with men swarming all over you like flies on shit. All my  
life I've gotten what I wanted. Always. I was Homecoming Queen and even  
won a few beauty contests in my better days. Now I'm in my late 30's and  
I'm competing with geeky sluts and fat, ugly hags -- no offense intended  
\-- for quality men, and coming out second best. It's just . . . not . . .  
fair."

"Fair, you say? Fair? I despise people with a sense of entitlement.  
You're a pathetic little whiner, Sandi, and you've never really amounted  
to much, and never will. That's the bad news. The good news is that as  
long as you keep your mouth shut and your legs spread, you'll probably  
do just fine. Just don't try to escape from your cozy little slot in  
the general scheme of things or you'll get hurt . . . badly."

"Thanks, Tilda, you sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.  
Where would I be without you?"

"Think nothing of it. After all, what are friends for?"


End file.
